


Ruined

by J_D_McCormick



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, based on DCAMU, honestly mainly Damian centric, there's hurt but I don't know if there's quite comfort lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 04:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_D_McCormick/pseuds/J_D_McCormick
Summary: “We need to check you haven’t sustained any serious injuries-”“Don’t talk to me!” Damian yells, whipping around to glare at his father. Dick looks taken aback – Bruce’s eyes sharpen by a degree. “Don’t talk to me, I don’t want to hear it! Stay away from me!”“Damian-”“No! This is all your fault. It is your fault Mother left, and it’syourfault she won’t come back for me!”





	Ruined

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so first off, disclaimer, I am basing Talia and her actions and the events that have happened on the DCAMU movies, Son of Batman, Batman Vs. Robin, and Batman Bad Blood. I've seen things around the fandom that suggest this is a very different version of Talia to the one in other continuities, but this is the only continuity I've really seen, so that's what I'm going with. Forgive me if this is not your preferred flavour of Talia.
> 
> That aside, based on a slightly modified version of a scene in Batman Bad Blood. I'm imagining this happening a little earlier on than it does in the DCAMU, and without the implication that Talia dies. Damian still very much has not found himself here.
> 
> Enjoy the angst.

_“How is it that I could have loved either of you?”_

-

Damian is quiet as Dick helps Bruce into the Batmobile, curling himself into the backseat without any protest. As the two older heroes talk between themselves, he doesn’t speak up, only watching the city go by out of the window.

Emotions churn in his stomach. Part of him, which has always strived for his mother’s acceptance, had settled for a time. Talia al Ghul had never been particularly free with affection or words of praise, but to hear that his mother had loved him settled doubts that he has been fighting off for years.

But, that feeling was soured, too. She _had_ loved him. There was no love for him in her any more. His mother had given up on loving him.

He should be above such things, above such emotions as these. He should have been for years. The sour feeling only worsens the more he hates it for existing.

By the time they arrive at the Batcave, Damian wants to run. He wants to channel the rawness in his chest into power and focus, into the precise cuts of his blade and the calculated kicks and twists he’s been taught all his life, like he always has in the past. He wants to fight and draw blood and smell iron and victory. He wants to take his katana and he wants to smash it into shards, and smash those into smaller shards, and smaller, until it’s little more than dust.

The Batmobile parks and the roof opens, and Damian swings himself over the side of the car and makes to leave, not even bothering to look behind him at the others.

“Woah there little bat, come and let Alfred look you over.” Dick calls after him.

“No.” Damian mutters sourly, not stopping.

“Damian.” Bruce’s voice is softened by injury and exertion, but it sounds like a stern rumble under that.

“I said, no.” Damian insists, trying not to let a growl seep into his tone.

“We need to check you haven’t sustained any serious injuries-”

“Don’t talk to me!” Damian yells, whipping around to glare at his father. Dick looks taken aback – Bruce’s eyes sharpen by a degree. “Don’t talk to me, I don’t want to hear it! Stay away from me!”

“Damian-”

“No! This is all _your_ fault. It is _your_ fault Mother left, and it’s your fault she won’t come back for me!” Damian can feel this throat constrict, feels the way his lungs suck in far more air than they really need too quickly. But it is too late to stop it – everything building in him has found an out in shouting at his father, and now that he’s started he cannot stop.

“She was meant to take me back to the League! I was supposed to join her in creating a better world. I was to learn from you, and then return to her, to lead the League and better it. But now she won’t take me back, and it’s your fault. You _ruined_ me!”

Damian sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, willing the burn he can feel at the back of his eyes to recede.

“I was raised, I was _made_ , to be great. To do great things alongside my Grandfather. I have been trained my entire life to be better, stronger, faster. Everything she taught me was to help me fulfil my purpose. And then she left me with you and you ruined me. You got inside my head and now I cannot get you out! Every time I try to be the son she wanted of me, your voice stops me. You have taken everything I was meant to be away from me and now _she won’t take me back_.”

The dam bursts, and he screams. He screams with all the breath in his body and feels it tear at his throat. He raises his hands to his hair and tugs hard, needing violence and having no target other than himself to unleash it on. He pulls as if ripping the hair from his scalp will rid him of the voice that tells him _heroes do not kill_ and _justice not vengeance_ , as if maybe he can tear himself in two, rid himself of the weakness of Robin and return to being just Damian al Ghul.

He startles as he feels himself wrapped in a pair of strong arms. For a moment he kicks and struggles, yelling wordless anger as he batters his father as hard as he can with his fists and feet. Bruce just lets him, holding him and allowing him to lash out. When Damian finds his words he hurls insults, the harshest words he can find, pure hatred, tries to make them bite and cut even as he feels his chest hiccupping with sobs.

“I hate you, I hate you! This is all your fault, it’s _your_ fault, you ruined everything, you ruined me, you _ruined me_!”

He takes a breath to start yelling again and chokes on it, feels hot tears tip down his cheeks, and then he’s crying so hard he can barely speak. He wants to curl up and die at the weakness. His mother would not have tolerated such behaviour. She would have sent him away until he could be quiet and calm.

His father continues to hold him, rubs the back of his head gently, makes soothing noises to him. For a brief moment the anger flares, as Bruce coddles him like a child and tarnishes everything he was made to be even further. But then it breaks, and Damian gives up to the desire to just be held. His mother is not there anymore. His mother will not take him back. There is no point trying to be her son anymore.

“I tried, I tried so hard, I just wanted to have you both-” Damian sobs. It feels like a confessional, like a secret he was never meant to acknowledge.

“Shh. Shh, I know, it’s alright Damian.” Bruce murmurs. He rocks side to side gently, and Damian clings to him tightly, clutching the fabric of his uniform so fiercely Bruce is almost surprised it doesn’t tear.

For a long stretch of minutes, Bruce simply sits there and holds his son as he crumbles, trying to keep his pieces together. Damian cries like a child, loud and unrestrained, and in some ways it is a relief. Bruce has always thought the boy was trying to act too old for his age, that he had a forced maturity which, if he thought hard about it, may have reminded him of himself at a similar age. In all the other ways, it breaks Bruce’s heart.

Eventually Damian’s sobs fizzle out into shuddering breaths. He still doesn’t let up his hold on Bruce. He keeps his eyes closed tight, as if he can pretend nothing happened so long as he doesn’t open them and acknowledge the world outside. Bruce carefully scoops him up into his arms, and Damian allows it, simply burying his face into Bruce’s chest. Alfred has already treated Dick, who has left to give them some space, but when the older man looks to Bruce he only shakes his head.

“I’ll look after him.” Bruce murmurs, and turns to carry Damian up to the manor proper.

He knows that this isn’t the end of the issue, isn’t even the start of it. Damian has been hurt beyond what Bruce could have guessed. He can feel the hurt on every one of Damian’s sharp edges, both the broken pieces and the reinforced defences. He knows that just because the boy broke down and bared himself tonight, it doesn’t mean he will open up to Bruce. In fact, he rather suspects it will only make Damian want to retreat further.

But Damian is his son, and he won’t give up on him. Bruce will not abandon him the way Talia has, just because he’s not exactly the boy Bruce might wish him to be. Bruce will pick him up and dust him off and help him build himself stronger.

And, first things first, Bruce will hold him, tight enough that maybe Damian will realise that he will not let go.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~How come I can never get my oneshot fics beyond 1400 words???~~
> 
>  
> 
> Feedback is, as always, welcome! Thank you for reading.


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